That Long and Winding Road
by Morte Lise
Summary: In less than twenty years they would become some of the greatest ninja the world had ever seen, but with a teacher like Jiraiya the journey would not be an easy one. Featuring the future Hokage and his teammates from their first day to their final moments


Because backstory and future fics get all my love. There is really no other excuse for this.

Um. Read and enjoy?

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_Chapter One: The Perils of Writer's Block_

You'd think he'd get more respect; Jiraiya mused to himself, taking another thoughtful sip of sake as the pounding on his door grew ever louder. After all, how many other ninja could boast his _dazzling_ résumé, especially at such a young age? Hermit-in-training, former student of the Hokage, famed war hero, frog master, _clearly_ the most powerful and awe-inspiring of the already legendary Sannin, and soon-to-be writer: what wasn't to love?

…Well, once he got over his writer's block, anyway. This novel writing thing was tougher than he'd thought. It would've been a lot easier, of course, if _certain people_ hadn't decided to continuously bother him while he was busy trying to find the best way to translate his genius into the written word.

Then again, that's what the wards on the door were for.

They held up surprisingly well up until the point Tsunade opted to simply rip the entire door out of the wall. Orochimaru wandered in after the furious blonde, head buried in what looked like medical records.

"You," Tsunade hissed through clenched teeth, pointing a finger at him dramatically. "Up. Now."

Jiraiya stared, nonplussed, at the finger. "Um. Why?"

A vein began throbbing in Tsunade's forehead. Orochimaru surreptitiously took a few steps back and sidled over to the left, still engrossed in his…well, whatever he was so obsessed about these days. "Why? _Why_? You have been holed up in here for weeks, Jiraiya, _weeks_! Drinking, and lying around, and looking at _porn_, and—and—well, I shudder to think about what else you've been doing!"

She slammed a fist down on the table, knocking over his sake bottle and prompting a dismayed cry from the white-haired man. "This is an intervention!"

"Okay…" Jiraiya blinked a few times and turned to Orochimaru. "And why the hell are you here?"

The snake-like shinobi looked up. "If she kills you, I'm donating your body to science," he said casually, flipping over a page and turning back to his reading.

Inexplicably, this flippant comment was more chilling than Tsunade's rage. "…Science?" Jiraiya asked cautiously.

Orochimaru smiled wanly, not bothering to look up a second time. "My experiments have been going unusually well recently. Take comfort in the fact that you, at least, will be dead while they are taking place."

It was a pity he knew for a fact that Orochimaru had no sense of humor, or he could've laughed that off as a twisted joke. He coughed nervously. "I," he said with as much dignity as he could muster at the thought of scalpels, needles, and various unseemly serums joining forces with Orochimaru's imagination, "am writing a _book_."

Tsunade scowled. "Jiraiya, I have _seen_ your so-called writing, and it is eight pages of scribbled doodles, notes on women's measurements, and stick figures in various…very unlikely and physically impossible positions!"

"It's a process!" he protested. "And for all you know, all of those things may very well be in my novel!"

"They will be," Orochimaru predicted darkly.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "I don't doubt it." She turned back to Jiraiya, looked momentarily disoriented, and settled for slamming her fist on the table again. The sake bottle rolled off the table and clattered to the floor, thankfully intact. Jiraiya watched it fall and winced.

"And what," Tsunade continued coldly, "have you been doing for _Konoha_?"

"My book will be a gift to the entire _world_," he said earnestly. Orochimaru made an odd coughing noise from behind his paperwork. Jiraiya glared at him.

"No one needs a damn book right now, Jiraiya," Tsunade snapped. "We need _manpower_! Konoha is on the brink of _war_!"

"Konoha's _always_ on the brink of war!" he protested.

The blonde scowled, brown eyes flashing. "That is _not_ true and you know it! Our village needs all the help it can get, and you're too busy with this…_idiocy_ to do anything of real value! Do you know that I haven't gotten a proper night's sleep in four days because of all the injured shinobi in need of emergency medical care? Hell, even Orochimaru's been dealing with the excess missions in his spare time."

Jiraiya eyed the pale man suspiciously. "Do you ever sleep? At all?"

There was a long, awkward silence in which he failed to get any response whatsoever. Tsunade was forced to snap her fingers in front of the white-haired ninja's face to get his attention back.

"The point _is_," she said irately, "that I've signed you up to become a teacher."

Jiraiya's jaw dropped. The corner of Orochimaru's mouth quirked up ever so slightly. Tsunade smiled menacingly.

"_Fortunately_," she continued, looking altogether too pleased at his reaction, "seeing as how _our_ former sensei is the current Hokage, I was able to pull a few strings and get you assigned a nice little squad, despite how late in the game it is."

Jiraiya had begun to strongly resemble a dying fish. Orochimaru was very pointedly focusing on his reading. Tsunade, on the other hand, looked very much like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.

"Of course, the student finals haven't come up just yet, but their projected marks should suffice," she went on happily. "And this gives you time to come up with their test assignment, what missions you'll want them to take, what training and teamwork exercises you'll do with them, what they'll need to be capable of in order to be eligible for the chuunin exam…"

"But…children…squad…train…thing…_what_?" Jiraiya floundered desperately.

Tsunade smirked. "You'll like them, they're a bunch of cute little seven year olds—the age is just getting younger every _year_, isn't it? Well-behaved, talented, excellent marks…I even managed to nab you an _Uchiha_, for heaven's sake." She held up a finger. "Just remember to check in with Sarutobi-sensei about all this. He'll have to give you a quick rundown of the teaching criteria before you meet up with the little darlings."

She flashed him a dazzling grin before clapping her hands together as something else occurred to her. "Oh! Also, if you ever use any of them as implements of your perversion or corrupt either of those poor boys into following your twisted ways in _any way whatsoever_, I will hunt you down and tear off both your arms." She turned to Orochimaru. "This goes for you as well."

The snake Sannin raised an eyebrow. "I have perverted ways?"

"I am sure that you do," Tsunade replied, flushing slightly. "Somewhere. Possibly deep down."

"Sometimes we take the time to try and figure out what they are," Jiraiya added helpfully, "but about five minutes in we usually decide we'd really rather not think about it."

Orochimaru stared at his teammates for a few uncomfortable moments before turning back to his reading without further comment.

Eventually, Jiraiya directed his attention back at Tsunade. "I don't really have to do this, right? If it's really that bad, I'll start picking up a few missions, but _kids_? Come on, Tsunade, since when do I do _kids_?"

"Since now," she told him flatly. "If you're really so against it, you can think of it as punishment, but there's absolutely no way you're getting out of it."

"But—"

"No!" she shouted. "No 'but'! No more complaints, no more excuses, no more protests, and most importantly, no more sitting around on your ass being completely _useless_! You are going to do this, and you will _like_ it!" She stamped her foot childishly. "Even if I have to _kill_ you!"

Jiraiya peered at her cautiously. "…Are you sure it isn't just your time of the mon—"

Well, he mused sedately as he went sailing through the wall about three feet to the right of the hole where his door should have been, his landlord probably wasn't going to be happy about all of this.

Upon finally landing and apologizing to the unfortunate family whose roof and kitchen table he had just destroyed, he took a short trip over to the medical ward before heading over to the Hokage's office. As always, Sarutobi was buried in a mountain of paperwork.

"I see Tsunade told you about the teaching job," he said serenely, eyes still on the aforementioned paperwork as Jiraiya entered the room. He looked up from the mission report he had been scanning and smiled wryly. "I see you also made some very unfortunate comments after she did so."

The Sannin shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not teaching material, sensei."

"I said the same thing when they asked me," the Hokage replied, unfazed. "And I must say, I'm rather satisfied with the way my pupils turned out." He looked thoughtful. "Most of the time, anyway." He shuffled through his papers and removed three portfolios, sliding them over to the white-haired man. "Here they are."

Jiraiya flipped dubiously through the files. There was the Uchiha, just as Tsunade had promised, but considering the way that damn family operated, there was no telling if that made her miles easier or more difficult than the other two. Speaking of the other two…

He stopped at the second file.

"Hey, am I reading this name right?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "Kiyoshi Yasuo? Since when does the Kiyoshi clan make a trip off that mountain of theirs for so much as a loaf of bread, let alone loan out one of their kids for training in the village?"

Sarutobi frowned slightly. "I'd wondered about that myself. Apparently he's a bit of an oddity within their family. From the letter his parents sent with him, he seems to be incredibly social for one of the Kiyoshi clan, but…he hasn't really made any friends. His teachers are a little worried about how he'll work with others. Very adept student, though, and he's already mastered the basics of his clan's jutsu. I suggest using him for surveillance."

Great, two down and one was probably a pampered egomaniac and the other was an antisocial spy cam. Had his work cut out for him, didn't he?

He flipped to the last file. "And what clan's this kid from? Never heard of the Namikaze clan before."

His teacher brightened up at mention of the name. "Ah, Minato! That boy shows a lot of promise. He's a hard worker, and he's made the most progress out of any of the students in Konohagakure. A bit weak in the bunshin area, but he's the quickest of the three and doing quite well with the rest of the basics."

"Not a big family, though, right? I don't remember anyone with the name Namikaze ever becoming a jounin, at least," Jiraiya mused, staring intently at the boy's file.

"He'll be the first ninja in their clan."

Jiraiya looked up, startled. "What, seriously? They decide to allow one of their completely inexperienced kids to become a shinobi when _war_ is on the horizon? Do they just not like this guy?"

Sarutobi sighed. "It was his choice, he wants to protect his village. Apparently, his parents just couldn't say no."

"Do they at least have some sort of related job? _Please_ tell me he's from a family of hunters, or some Uchiha-less police force—hell I'll take security guard if it means he's been trained to defend himself outside of school!"

The Hokage pinched the bridge of his nose. "They're grocers," he admitted reluctantly.

Jiraiya gaped at him. "Grocers? This kid is the heir to a family of _grocers_? Well, I can guarantee he'll be the best damn ninja grocer _in the land_, but it sure as hell won't be my fault if he goes down in seconds on an actual battlefield."

Sarutobi glowered at him, and his incredulity became uneasiness. All right, maybe he'd been a _little_ harsh, but come on, a family of _grocers_?

"A shinobi is judged by _skill_, not by parentage," Sarutobi said sternly, and his voice had gone into full-blown lecture mode. "How many excellent ninja would we have turned down if we went by clan alone? Jiraiya, your own family wasn't of incredibly high standing, and Orochimaru was an orphan at Minato's age! Where would the two of you be now if I'd judged you the way you're judging this boy?"

Jiraiya held up his hands defensively. For heaven's sake, he thought he'd seen the last of the infamous lecture mode after he'd passed his jounin exam, but apparently even becoming Hokage wasn't enough to get rid of Sarutobi-sensei's Inner Teacher. "Look, I never said I wouldn't teach the kid, I just said that becoming a ninja probably wouldn't be too good for his health! I mean, if even the most experienced shinobi have one really bad day, then…"

"Then you'll just have to make sure you teach him well enough that he survives long enough to become a very experienced shinobi," Sarutobi replied, unruffled. "I wish you the best of luck."

Jiraiya went back to staring morosely at the three files. "So I'm stuck with them, huh?" He sighed wearily. "There isn't some way I could just, y'know, fail them…?"

He glanced cautiously at his teacher before quickly returning to the paperwork. Yeah. He'd thought as much. Thank goodness even the Professor himself hadn't yet invented a justu that could allow looks to kill…

"So, anything I need to know about teaching these kids?" he muttered.

The murderous expression fled from Sarutobi's face to be replaced with a more thoughtful one. "Well, they'll need to take the post-graduate exam—the terms for that are your own decision of course, but try not to make it too easy or too hard. Training exercises are up to you as well, but try ones that utilize all of their individual strengths. Finally, keep track of the dates of the chuunin exams. Make sure they're all ready to take it when the time comes."

Jiraiya blinked. "And…that's it?"

The Hokage smiled benignly. "That's it. We're quite lenient with the teachers these days—after all, the more brilliant shinobi are usually the most eccentric, and we don't want to limit anyone with too many rules and regulations. Just teach them however you feel is best."

There was a moment of silence. Sarutobi shuffled his papers around.

"So…how's the book going?"

Jiraiya shrugged nonchalantly. "About the same. Got a few more sketches done, at least."

The shuffling continued.

"…Could you give me a copy of those later?" the older man muttered reluctantly.

Jiraiya grinned. It was nice to know _someone_ appreciated his efforts. "Sure thing, sensei."

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I have no freakin' idea why I started this, but I did. Um…reviews are love and criticism is appreciated. Flames, however, get no love whatsoever. …Also, if anyone can remember what hair color the boy who was not Minato or possibly an Uchiha in Jiraiya's squad was, could you let me know? ...Yes. Mine is a sad soul.


End file.
